A Way Out
by BonanzaRocks
Summary: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR SEASON 11 EPISODE 1. Don't read this if aren't all caught up. Rated M just to be safe.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural...probably a good thing.**

 **DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN SEASON 11 EPISODE 1!**

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"At least we got one win, y' know?" Dean said.

"Yeah, I hear ya" Sam replied, with just enough gusto to prove that things had gone their way.

"I'll come get you in a few hours, you work on that cure of yours. Call if you get into any trouble."

"Yep." Sam ended the call. A few hours, it wasn't a whole lot of time, but it would have to be enough.

SPNSPN

Sam set up shop in the infectious disease unit of the hospital. Seemed appropriate. He needed to make sure that he would be completely contained. Isopropyl alcohol, empty syringes, a lighter, a scalpel, and a notepad and pen. Sam took note of the changes he noticed in the appearance of his infection. He didn't feel any rise in anger or violent inclinations.

"Must happen all of a sudden." Sam muttered under his breath as he made a few more notes on the page. As he wrote, little lines of blood from his cut and bruised hands smeared across the page.

Sam walked over to the small mirror in the room and gazed at the broken man staring back at him with empty eyes. He didn't see a hero, or a savior, or anything of the kind. He saw what he had always seen. A monster.

Sam took a syringe and filled it with his blood, then took another and filled it with the darkness running through his chest, neck, and now face. He looked down at the syringes and was overcome with guilt.

 _I should have finished the trials. None of this would have happened. The world would have been a better place. For once I would have made the right choice. But no, I was too selfish. I wanted to live…and for what? To become a monster? Again._

Sam set the fluids down on the desk and labeled them accordingly. There was no way he would have the time to research the darkness. He had no access to any possible lore, no mentor to turn to; he had nothing but his own case to document. He prayed that he would be able to finish his task before Dean returned.

Dean. Dean would have to be strong. He would have to fight on and find a way to fix what his little brother had broken. Sam ran a bloody hand through his hair. Then disarmed the smoke detector. Time was running out.

SPNSPN

"Sam?" Dean called out in a cross between a whisper and a shout. He walked down the dimly lit hospital hallways armed and ready for a fight. He had tried Sam's phone multiple times with no answer, never a good sign.

"Sammy?"

A bloody doctor rounded the corner. His neck was covered in thick black veins.

"Not Sammy," Dean said firing off a few shots.

Two nurses and one scary kid later, Dean found himself out of ammo. He hadn't expected so many lingering children of darkness. Hadn't Sam said something about the infection killing its host after a relatively short amount of time? Maybe it was different with each case.

Sam gave his pant pockets a gentle pat, reassuring himself that he had the cafeteria salt packets tucked away. Next, he took the bottles of alcohol and gave himself a little shower. A painful shower, he realized as the alcohol found every little rip in his flesh. The pain felt right. It would be a simple salt and burn. Just like the old days.

Dean popped his head in one room after another. Nothing. No Sam. Nope. But then, he saw him. He would recognize the back of Sam's head anywhere.

"Sammy! Man, I was looking everywhere for you." Dean said entering the room. He took a few steps in before realizing that he was standing in the first section of the room. Two separate Plexiglas walls separated him from his brother. Sam was in a containment area.

"Sammy?" Dean said, louder, "You find anything man?"

Sam could barely hear his brother. He closed his eyes. Dean was early, probably broke even more traffic violations than normal to make it back to the hospital in record time. Sam couldn't bring himself to turn around. He didn't want to see the horror in his brother's eyes. He'd seen that look too often. Pain coursed through his body as memories flashed through his mind. The Halloween night he had killed Samhein with his demon powers, the moment he sprung Lucifer from his cage, the time he confessed to not looking for Dean in purgatory, he could keep going, but it hurt too much. At least this would be the last time he disappointed his hero.

Sam took a long slow breath before turning to face his brother. There it was, for an instant, Dean's eyes conveyed a look of absolute horror. Sam cast his eyes down at the ground.

"No, nonononono. Sammy, no." Dean couldn't believe what he was seeing. Dean cleared his throat and shouted, "I'm gonna fix this."

Sam looked up and shrugged. "Too late." He mouthed.

Dean shook his head with great enthusiasm. "No, we've come too far. Let me in."

Dean's eyes searched for a point of entry. Sam was smart, he had barricaded himself inside the room well. Suddenly, Dean noticed that Sam was glistening. Was that sweat? His eye caught hold of empty bottles of alcohol. Sam had a lighter in his hand.

"SAMMY! NO!" Dean pounded on the Plexiglas. He cursed himself for using up all of his bullets. "Don't do this! We'll find a way. I can save you!"

Sam watched his brother through the glass. A slight hint of a smile pulled at the corner of his bloody lip. Dean, always the protector.

All of a sudden Sam was crumpled on the floor. His hands reaches for his head, it felt like it was about to explode.

"SAM!" Dean screamed. His attention had been divided between beating on the glass and looking for a stronger tool than his own arm. Now, his complete focus was on his hurting brother.

Sam tried to gain control, but he felt his mind slipping away. He had been possessed before, but this was different. He wasn't sharing space with a demon, he was being wiped out. He tried to hold on to his memories, but they were fading to black. Total darkness loomed near. It was now or never. Sam flicked open his lighter and created a small flame that soon overtook him.

"NO!" Dean cried. "SAMMY NO!"

SPNSPNSPN

"Again?" Death complained, not bothering to look up from his meal.

"You're…alive?" Sam asked. He was standing back in a vaguely familiar cabin.

"What? You thought you two little specks of dust were capable of killing me?" Death set down his fork, "You can't kill Death."

Sam stood in silence.

"Shall I save a bite for your brother?" Death asked. "I assume he's on his way here to pluck you out of this predicament."

"I'm done." Sam said. "For good."

"Oh, really?" Death rolled his eyes.

"You have to believe me."

"I don't have to do anything. That is a fact you and that brother of yours seem to forget quite often." Death stood and opened the cabin door to leave.

"Please."

"Why should I? Why should I grant you death?"

"I'm tired of being a monster." Sam said in a voice just above a whisper. "I won't destroy the world…again."

"You might not like where you find yourself." Death stated. "Once I put you there, I'm not bringing you back again."

Sam took a deep breath.

"I know."

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 **Ok so now I'm the worst person in the universe. I just kept having this nightmare of this happening...so obviously I had to write it down and give it to all of you.**

 **Review if you have a sec.**


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